


Screech In

by FrozenEagle



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drinking Contest, El and Byleth get the kick in the butt their relationship needed, F/F, Fluff, Humor, No one speaks that way to [x] and gets away with it, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenEagle/pseuds/FrozenEagle
Summary: If you’re not familiar with the Newfoundlander tradition of a “Screech In”, I highly recommend you check it out. Or just listen to the song by the same name from Come From Away. This isn’t exactly that, but Screech is involved…---The Imperial Army arrives in a small town in the Alliance on the march to Faerghus. Valuable intel could be gained from a group of bandits, but they have to work for it. Edelgard and a reluctant Byleth are up to the challenge.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79





	Screech In

It was a miserable, rainy evening when the Imperial Army marched into a tiny village in recently-conquered Alliance territory. Waterlogged and exhausted, the Emperor and her team headed to the inn to secure lodging for the night. That was all that was needed, really, but as the Black Eagles gathered in the small pub under the inn for a meagre meal, they overheard talk that might help their cause.

Talk coming from a group of rowdy, crude bandits.

It was something about a secret path to the Kingdom. A route through rough terrain initially believed to be impassable unless on a pegasus or wyvern. Such information would be highly valuable to the Imperial Army.

“We ain’t telling you _shit_!” the lead bandit spat, sending little bits of food into Hubert’s face.

Hubert barely grimaced as he stiffly wiped his face with a handkerchief. “Need I remind you, gentlemen, that you are in the presence of her Imperial Majesty,” he said coolly, “And that not cooperating could get... _unpleasant_ for you.”

“Oh ho! You hear that, Rolf?” one of the bandits asked as they slapped their leader’s shoulder with a laugh, “Her _Majesty_ is here! Oh no! Better watch out!”

Rolf, the leader, didn’t laugh so easily. “Listen here, _boy_. The things you’re askin’ us about are trade secrets. _Not_ for the bloody _Emperor_ and every officer in the Imperial Army,” he said with a growl, “Now I suggest you skulk back to whatever coffin you crawled out of and leave us be.”

Hubert’s eye twitched. Magic gathered in his hand. “Very well,” he stated simply.

An armoured hand came to rest on his shoulder, forcing the magic to dissipate. “And what would it take to share this ‘trade secret’?” Edelgard asked, her voice doing a fantastic job hiding how _angry_ she was at the men. No one insulted Hubert like that while she was around.

A chorus of sarcastic “ _ooooh_ ”scame from the gang, and all eyes were on Rolf. “Lady,” he said after a long swig of his drink, “You could give me your marble palace, that gold crown on your head, and _yourself_ , buck naked in my bed, and I _still_ wouldn’t tell you anything.”

Byleth stepped forward, beginning to unsheath her sword. No one talked to Edelgard like that, not while she was around.

Edelgard held up one hand to halt her team, all of whom had the same idea as Byleth. “Very well. If you are not willing to part with the information naturally, then perhaps if we win in a challenge?” she offered.

Ferdinand gasped, genuinely insulted. “ _What_? She won’t accept any of _my_ challenges but these _drunkards_ -” His complaining was cut short by Dorothea’s elbow to his ribcage.

Rolf scoffed. “You think I’m dumb enough to challenge you lot?” he said dryly, “There’d be no bloody contest if we were to fight ya.”

“It does not have to be a test of strength,” Edelgard told him, keeping her voice as steady as always, “I’m sure there must be something you believe you’d have an advantage in. Name your challenge.”

Rolf eyed her for a moment, and then he chuckled. He waved to the bartender, and said with a smug grin, “Very well, Lady. You’ve got yourself a deal. My challenge is this: if any of you can beat me and my men in a drinking contest, then you’ve got your information. Once we remember it in the morning, of course. You lose, and you pack up all your men and never set foot in this village again.”

“That’s...not _so_ bad,” Caspar muttered.

“Oh and I forgot to mention,” Rolf continued as the bartender set down a large bottle with an unidentifiable liquid inside, “We’ll be drinking this stuff. _Screech_. Bet you’ve never heard of it before, eh, _Little Lady_?”

“Oh this is _bad_ ,” Byleth breathed. She rushed to the Emperor’s side and whispered, “Edelgard, this stuff is practically poison. It’s taken down some of the biggest, meanest mercenaries I’ve ever met. I don’t think _any_ of you will be able to drink more than a shot of the stuff.”

“Are you doubting us, Professor?” Edelgard shot back with an eyebrow raised.

“Well... _Yes_. Actually,” Byleth admitted with a sigh, “Like I said: the _biggest_ guys I’ve ever met couldn’t handle this stuff.”

“And what about you, Professor?”

Byleth blinked. She’d had Screech before. Only a shot or two before Jeralt stopped her. (Yeah, it was bad enough for _Jeralt_ to step in.) But...she felt fine afterward.

“Fire consumes alcohol, Professor,” Edelgard uttered. Byleth shot her a confused glance before it all began to click.

_Oh no_. She was _not_ -

“I’ll try it,” Caspar offered, stepping forward before anyone could stop him.

Rolf’s ridiculous smile remained plastered on his face as he poured a shot of Screech and handled it to Caspar. Caspar threw it back and almost instantly he was on the floor, coughing and sputtering and _screaming_ at the burning sensation in his mouth.

“ _Goddess_ , what’s _in_ that?” he shouted angrily, reaching for his neck to ensure the stuff hadn’t burned through his throat.

Rolf and his cronies were howling with laughter. “And _that_ is why we call it Screech!” he shouted proudly, before levelling the tiny Emperor a victorious smile, “Who’s _next_?”

Edelgard said not a word. Instead, with her head held high, she stepped forward and took a seat at the table across from Rolf, much to the shock and amusement of the band of bandits and the _horror_ of her own team.

“Lady Edelgard, I _must_ insist-” Hubert began, his composure breaking only a little in his panic.

“Hubert, I promise you, I can handle this,” Edelgard interrupted, remaining as calm as ever.

“Yeah, Hubert! This could be _fun_ ,” Lindhardt said sarcastically.

“Oh, I _can’t_ watch!” Bernadetta squeaked, taking cover behind an equally terrified Dorothea.

Byleth glanced between the team and Edelgard and heaved a heavy sigh. She stepped forward, and took a seat beside the Emperor. “Let’s at least make this fair,” she said, earning a grateful glance from Edelgard.

“ _You two_?” Rolf demanded incredulously, eyes darting between the two young woman seated across from him. He laughed, and poured them both a shot of Screech and one for himself. “Your funeral,” he stated before taking the drink, wincing slightly at the taste.

Edelgard and Byleth both reached for their shots. They looked to each other, raised their glasses, and drank.

Not even a _flinch_ between them.

Rolf’s smile was wiped off his face in an instant. He took a look at the bottle of Screech, as if checking to ensure he had actually poured it for them.

“What just happened?” Ferdinand said after recovering from the shock.

“We’re going to _win_ , is what happened!” Caspar shouted triumphantly from the floor.

“Sometimes the first shot doesn’t register right away,” Rolf said defensively, pouring another round, “It’s the second one that gets ya.”

“That’s not at all what I’ve heard about Screech,” Byleth said as she casually downed her shot, “The whole point is that it knocks you out flat after the first drink.”

Edelgard finished hers with equal ease. “I’m not entirely sure what the big deal was,” she said, stoic as ever, “It’s got lovely notes of smoked wood and spice. I might almost consider having this from time to time in my study.”

Rolf sputtered in shock, choking a little on his own shot. “Screech doesn’t _have_ a taste!” he stated, “It’s just supposed to _burn_.”

“I disagree,” Edelgard said simply, “It’s actually quite delicious.”

“Are you... _serious_ , right now?”

“What’s the matter, Rolf?” Byleth challenged, “Afraid you might lose? We can call this off if you want, provided you give us what we want.”

Rolf’s expression dropped into a hardened, stubborn line. “I never back down from a fight,” he growled. He poured another round and sucked back his with a grimace. “If I can’t beat a couple of women in a drinking contest, then I’ve failed as a bandit.”

“You probably might want to consider a career change, then,” Byleth replied. She and Edelgard clinked their glasses together before taking the shots.

Rolf and his cronies didn’t look so confident anymore.

\---

It was a few hours later. Three empty bottles of Screech sat on the table. Everyone in the bar had gathered around, watching the show with much amusement. Drinks had been passed around, laughs were had, and all around it was a _great_ time.

All because of one silly little contest.

One Edelgard and Byleth were _winning_. By _a lot_.

The pair of them were definitely beginning to feel the effects of all that alcohol. Byleth’s tongue had gotten a lot sharper and her words significantly more colourful. Edelgard’s stiff persona had melted away and her cheeks were steadily becoming the same colour as her armour. 

But _both_ of them were faring far better than Rolf and his cronies. The gang of bandits had to tag each other in and out of the contest, all seven of them eventually going head-to-head with the duo. None of them made it very long. Only Rolf stayed in it, soldiering on despite barely being able to keep his head up. His confidence was now completely gone, and it looked like he’d sooner drink deadly poison than another shot of Screech.

“You two...you aren’t... _human_ ,” he wheezed, struggling to keep from heaving up the potent contents of his stomach.

“Probably not,” Byleth said with a shrug, sending Edelgard a knowing smile. She raised her glass and stated triumphantly, “To Adrestia! And a brighter tomorrow!”

Everyone in the bar cheered and drank to that toast as Byleth and Edelgard did the same.

Edelgard poured two more drinks and raised her own glass. “To Captain Jeralt! A man I had the most pleasure to meet, an incredible warrior, and...” She smiled at Byleth. “...One amazing father. May his memory live on!”

“Whoo! To the Captain!” Caspar cheered as he took a long drink of beer.

Hubert put his head in his hands in defeat.

Byleth, not to be outdone, poured another drink and made another toast: “To Ionius IX! I never knew him personally but he raised one hell of a daughter!”

“This is either the greatest thing I’ve ever seen or the most horrifying,” Dorothea uttered.

“Well, it’s a good thing everyone here is drunk, because no one is going to believe this happened tomorrow,” Lindhardt sighed.

Rolf attempted to keep up but his dexterity was so far gone he couldn’t bring the glass up to his mouth.

“Well come on, Rolf,” Byleth said with all the confidence of a drunken mercenary, “I thought you picked this challenge because you were sure you’d _win_.”

“I’m not...going to _lose_ ,” Rolf argued weakly, “Just need to...rest for a minute.”

“Well what’s the point of a drinking contest if naps are taken halfway through?” Edelgard jabbed with a laugh, “They’d never end if they were like that!”

“You two... Are clearly cheatin’...somehow,” Rolf drawled, “I don’t know how, but... Y’are. Be that as it may, I won’t...go down so easy.”

“You think _that_ was easy?” Byleth asked as she clinked two of the three empty bottles together.

“I think it’s time we finished this, Professor,” Edelgard said, gesturing to the bartender to bring three more bottles.

“My Lady, what are you _doing_?” Hubert hissed, “You’ve clearly _won_. Just wait for the man to fall out of his seat.”

“Not now, Hubert,” Edelgard returned, her words only slurring just a little, “Rolf here had the gall to insult my companions and was dumb enough to accept a challenge from me. I’m sure Ferdinand knows what must be done.”

Hubert whipped around to face Ferdinand, who held up his hands in defence. “I _swear_ to you I have no idea she would go this far,” he stammered.

“Then what was she talking about?” Hubert demanded.

“She’s, um...” Ferdinand winced and prayed Hubert’s head wasn’t about to explode, “She’s going for a _critical_.”

The bartender set the bottles of Screech down at the table with a look of concern on his face. Which was saying a lot, as this was a man who looked like he wouldn’t normally be concerned about _anything_.

Edelgard passed one bottle to Byleth and set the other in front of Rolf. “We’re ahead of you by about seven shots, but let's make this interesting,” she said with a victorious grin, “If you can finish that before we finish ours, you win.”

“You’re _mad_ ,” Rolf spat, eyeing the bottle as if it were about to burst into flames.

“Perhaps I am,” Edelgard said as she sat back in her chair, “‘The Mad Emperor’... I like the sound of that.”

“ _No_ , you don’t!” Hubert stated grumpily, “And you are _not_ doing this! No amount of information in the _world_ would-”

“Hubert, buddy, I love ya, but you should have made this argument, like... Two hours ago,” Byleth slurred, earning her a death glare she was too drunk to care about, “I’m in! Get going, Rolf!”

Rolf picked up the bottle in his hand and grimaced. He shakily brought it to his lips and took a small sip. Almost immediately, his body rejected it and he spat the Screech back out onto the floor, coughing and sputtering and choking on the burning liquid.

“I _give_ ,” he wheezed, “We all do! You win, you _demons_ , the pair of ya!”

“Congrats, El! You are officially a Demon!” Byleth shouted triumphantly.

“Victory is ours!” Edelgard declared, the whole bar erupting into cheers. Caspar was especially loud.

“Cheers, my Crimson Demon,” Byleth said, holding up her bottle, “It’s been an honour as always to fight by your side.”

“And, as always, I am forever grateful to have you here with me,” Edelgard replied, clinking her bottle against Byleths.

And then, to the horror of most of the Black Eagles, the pair downed the entire contents of their bottles of Screech. Rolf, bearing witness to such a bold move, passed out.

What followed would be a night remembered by that village for _years_ to come.

As it turned out, the shenanigans that went down that infamous night in that little town became a legend. Since the start of the war that little town had had little to celebrate. The arrival of the Emperor of Adrestia and her army at first seemed to be like a slap in the face.

Until the same Emperor who had defeated the Alliance came down from her high horse and had a drink with the people, revealing herself to be just as human as any one of them.

She also put Rolf in his place, which was welcomed by many in that little town.

In the years following, a festival took place on that day. There were plenty of laughs, competition, and fun. And enough Screech to last an army.

It would not, however, be remembered by the two women at the centre of it all.

\---

Sunlight filtered in through broken blinds, pouring into the room as streaks of light made clear by dust particles floating in the air. Birds chirped happily, finding plenty to eat in the damp ground after the rain.

Edelgard slowly became aware of the birds, though she wasn’t ready to face the sunlight. She was warm and comfortable in her bed, the scratchy wool blanket the only thing slightly unpleasant. She opened one eye but closed it immediately, groaning softly as shooting pain in her head appeared right between the eyes. Forget waking up - she was happy here where it was soft and warm.

Then her pillow _snored_. And suddenly she was aware that her head wasn’t resting on a _pillow_.

But her professor’s _chest_.

Her eyes flew open and she shot up, which was a mistake because the vertigo mixed with the splitting headache almost made her throw up. The sound she made - a combination of a startled yelp and a pained groan - was enough to cause Byleth to stir slightly. Edelgard heard her moan something, possibly requesting an extra five minutes of sleep.

As Edelgard held her head in one hand, almost ready to pray to the goddess just to make the pain go away, she tried to start piecing together the previous night. She and Byleth were both still _clothed_ , which was a good sign. They had somehow managed to remove most of their armour and adornments - how she had managed to get her crown off will forever remain a mystery. Judging by the mess on the floor, it looked as though they pulled off what they had been able to before collapsing in a heap on the bed. _Together_.

“ _Professor,”_ Edelgard hissed urgently, giving Byleth’s shoulder a nudge, “ _My teacher_!”

Byleth lazily swatted her hand away and let out a soft noise of protest. “Mmh... Turn the light off... ‘ts too bright...”

“ _Byleth_!”

Byleth’s eyes opened at that. Despite their closeness, Edelgard still rarely referred to her by her name. She only ever did when something was wrong.

She ended up having a similar reaction to Edelgard: she opened her eyes, was immediately blinded and struck by a massive headache, and closed her eyes again while wincing in pain. “ _Fuck_ , were we _poisoned_ last night?” she demanded grumpily, “I feel awful.”

“We likely were, and we did it to ourselves,” Edelgard said with a sigh, “I’m not going to _ever_ hear the end of this...”

Byleth let out another pained noise as she covered her eyes with her hand. After a moment, she said bluntly: “We slept together.”

Edelgard made a noise Byleth had _never_ heard her make before, prompting her to back peddle clumsily. “No, I mean... We shared a bed! _No_ , not in _that_ way, we just... Spent the night together? Platonically. Fully clothed. _Shit_ , I’m not making this better, am I?”

Edelgard sighed and patted Byleth’s shoulder affectionally. “Just stop talking, my teacher,” she advised. She released another sigh. “Well, we can’t avoid it forever. We should get ready and face the consequences of our ridiculous actions.”

“Or we could just lie here for a bit longer?” Byleth suggested.

Edelgard pushed herself off the bed and stood on her feet for about two seconds before sinking back down. She carefully flopped down beside Byleth and swallowed the bile that had risen up in her throat. “We can lie here until the room stops spinning,” she said weakly.

Byleth rolled over and snuggled up closer to Edelgard, draping one arm over her to keep her there. “‘Plationically’, my teacher?” Edelgard asked dryly, feeling her cheeks heating up.

“Yes, platonically,” Byleth replied, “You’re _warm_.”

Edelgard huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “What was I _thinking_?” she groaned, “Of all the questionable things I’ve done in my life, _that_ had to be the _stupidest_...”

“But it _was_ kinda fun,” Byleth told her, “It was...nice, seeing you loosen up a little.”

Edelgard turned to shoot her a mild glare. “Yes, I suppose taking the stick out of my ass for a night was, I _suppose_ , good for me.” Byleth’s eyes went wide with shock, her mouth even falling open a little. “I’m _still_ a little drunk,” Edelgard realized.

“That...reminds me,” Byleth said slowly, rolling over and releasing Edelgard to stare at the ceiling, “I don’t remember much from last night but I _do_ remember you saying something about fire consuming alcohol... Did you... _know_ that the Crest of Flames would do that? Because we should be _way_ worse right now given all we had to drink last night...”

Edelgard frowned. “It was more a hunch than anything,” she said after a pause, “I, um... It was hard, having to keep up the Imperial Princess image at grand galas and balls after... My siblings and I used to keep each other entertained, but... Well, being the only one and having to _pretend_ that everything was _fine_ when it wasn’t... I... _might have_...tried to...”

Byleth reached over and took her hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “Sadly, anything I drank never seemed to have the expected result,” Edelgard continued, “Everyone else could drink to forget, but I, for whatever reason, had too high a tolerance. I have now learned I _do_ have a limit, but if I had tried to drink that much at a royal ball I likely would have been sealed away somewhere.”

“That...would explain some things about me, then,” Byleth mused, “As a member of a band of mercenaries, it was fairly common to gather together after long days and have a few drinks. Some of them got _badly_ drunk, but I never did. Not even a little tipsy. I always just thought it was just another... inhuman... thing about me, but...”

“Like I said, the Crest of Flames was just a guess,” Edelgard said, “I was too young to have tested my theory _before_ gaining it, but knowing we have shared experiences only makes the theory stronger.”

“Well, it was a pretty good guess. And a good _bluff_.” Byleth chuckled to herself, then explained, “I’ve _seen_ people get that drunk before but I had _no_ idea what it felt like. Actually, if I’m being honest, I _still_ don’t fully know. I vaguely remember Hubert glaring at me like he was going to skin me alive, and then nothing.”

“Yes, I remember about that much as well. I hope Hubert and the others aren’t _too_ angry with us...”

Just then, the door to their room was thrown open. “Good _morninggg_!” the intruder sang with all the power of an opera singer. They walked right over to the window and threw the blinds open, flooding the room with light.

The hungover pair in the bed didn’t stand a chance.

“ _Dorothea_ , to _what_ do we owe the honour of a visit?” Edelgard growled from underneath a pillow, trying desperately to shield her eyes from that accursed sunlight.

“Oh look at you, my dears! Did you have a good rest?” Dorothea asked cheerfully, completely ignoring the question and their grumpy moods.

“Something tells me they _are_ still angry with us,” Byleth grumbled.

“Oh don’t worry,” Dorothea assured them, “If you ask me, _I_ personally think your relationship needed something like this. One wild night of letting loose and having fun, then retiring together in _the same bed_? Why, it’s just like an opera!”

“This _isn’t_ happening,” Edelgard moaned, feeling heat rising all the way up to her ears.

“Just be glad I managed to convince Hubert to allow me to wake you. He, uh, likely wouldn’t have been so gentle.”

“You call _that_ gentle?” Byleth asked dryly.

“Oh believe me, compared to what he wanted to do, I practically gave you both the gentlest wake-up call there ever was. But I’ve only been able to stall him for so long so you two had best get up before he sets the inn on fire.”

Byleth let out a despondent moan as she rolled off the bed and onto the floor, still wrapped up in the blanket. At the loss of the covering, Edelgard flinched before slowly sitting up, removing the pillow to face the sun as bravely as she could.

“What _time_ is it, anyway?” she asked, rubbing the side of her head weakly in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

“It’s about quarter to noon,” Dorothea chirped in reply.

“It’s _what_?!”

Now it was Edelgard’s turn to be on the floor in a heap, having leapt from the bed only to realize too late that her equilibrium was still compromised.

“Yes. Unfortunately Hubie isn’t very pleased about it.”

“No _shit_! Why didn’t anyone wake us! We were supposed to depart hours ago!” Despite the tumble, she was already moving to freshen up and collect her things off the floor, throwing any of Byleth’s items on the bed as she came across them.

“ _Swearing_ , Edie? Is now really the best time for such language?”

“ _Dorothea_.”

“Ok!” Byleth’s hand shot up from the other side of the bed, and slowly the rest of Byleth appeared as she hoisted herself up to lean on the mattress. “Moderator with a _very_ bad headache, here!” she stated, “Dorothea, El can swear as much as she likes, given present circumstances and the fact that she’s the _Emperor_. El, what we did was incredibly stupid and irresponsible and it’s time to face the consequences of that.”

“I _know that_! It’s that we’re _late_!” Edelgard shot back, “If Hubert ever speaks to me again he’s going to give me an _earful_. I doubt Ferdinand will _ever_ let me live this down. I’m the one who sets the standards for my army and _this_ is how I go about it?”

Dorothea struggled to hide her smirk. “Oh I wouldn’t worry about Ferdinand. He eventually got into the spirit and attempted to catch up with you,” she informed them.

Edelgard whipped around to stare at her in horror. Then she let out a defeated groan. “Hubert is going to _kill_ me _.”_

“He won’t do _that_ ,” Byleth assured her, slowly rising to her own feet, “It’d go against everything he believes in. _Me_ , on the other hand...”

Edelgard gathered most of Byleth’s clothes up and lobbed them toward her, Byleth effortlessly catching them with her face. The pair scrambled to get ready while Dorothea watched with thinly veiled amusement. Once presentable, and after one more long, deep breath to psyche themselves up, they headed out of the room and toward the stairs.

“Oh, I should warn you,” Dorothea added as she followed after them, “Things got _pretty_ wild last night.”

“I gathered that, Dorothea, but I can’t imagine it is utterly horrifying,” Edelgard replied, opening the main door of the tavern to head out and seek the rest of her party.

She froze in the door, as did Byleth. _Chaos_ would have been an understatement. She’d seen villages after battles that looked better than this one. Animals were running wild in the streets. Windows were smashed. Debris from broken kegs and crates was scattered everywhere. Fabric that looked suspiciously like curtains hung from a nearby light pole. Empty bottles lay strewn about. There were quite a few citizens passed out in gutters. Everyone else appeared to be nursing a hangover. Someone had climbed the nearby clocktower and only half-successfully hung an Adrestian banner from it. There was a horse in the town fountain, casually splashing about without a care in the world.

“Oh _goddess_ ,” Byleth breathed, “I’ve seen this before. Mercenary groups get too rowdy, it spreads into the streets, and then in the morning we get run out of town.”

“Byleth I want you to take your sword and stab me. Right in the chest, right now,” Edelgard commanded.

“She will do no such thing. Not until _I_ have a word with both of you.”

Both women nearly leapt out of their skins at the sound of that ominous voice behind them. They both whirled around, Edelgard reaching for her dagger and Byleth the hilt of her sword.

Hubert didn’t even flinch.

“Hubert: I can explain,” Edelgard began, trying her best to stand as tall and commanding as she could. It was _Hubert_. She knew him better than anyone. So why was so suddenly so damn _nervous_?

“No need, Your Majesty,” Hubert replied, holding up his hand to stop her in her tracks, “Your plan worked well. I tracked down that bandit this morning and, while he himself was still unresponsive, his companions gave us the information we wanted. Taking the shortcut will cut our travel time significantly, and if we leave now we should arrive at our destination around the same time as if we left at the time first agreed upon.” He paused, gesturing to the town centre before them. “You also drastically increased moral with your choices last night. And successfully won the town over. It had apparently been years since they had cause to celebrate anything.”

“It... _what_?” Edelgard demanded.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I will now go and ready everyone for deployment.”

“Wait, you’re not _mad_?”

Hubert sent her a look she was sure he only ever reserved for his enemies. While his expression remained neutral, behind his eyes was a flurry of emotion - none of it _good_. “Absolutely not,” he replied stiffly. He then skulked past them and into the courtyard.

“You know you _can_ yell at me!” Edelgard called after him.

“Leave him, Edie. Hubert doesn’t do explosive anger,” Dorothea sighed.

“Am I the only one who’s afraid to go to sleep tonight?” Byleth asked as she watched the shadowy man slink off. He had such an aura of grumpiness around him a stablehand ran off shrieking after accidentally making eye contact.

“We will sleep in shifts for a while,” Edelgard decided.

Dorothea snorted with laughter, beginning to head toward the group. “Oh, by the way,” she said slyly, doing a poor job at hiding the wide grin on her face, “I hope the two of you kissed each other better than you kissed that fish.”

That was the _second_ time in one morning Byleth heard Edelgard make that noise she had previously never heard before.


End file.
